Ice
by M.S.Franklin
Summary: Anakin seems to have forgotten that he's not the only one who lost someone that fateful day on Naboo. A little over a year later, Obi-Wan might just remind him. Oneshot, no bashing.


It had started with Obi-Wan once again warning Anakin not to become prideful, after he'd excitedly told his master about how he'd managed the lesson in using the Force quicker than anyone else his age in class that day. Anakin had, as usual, responded that he wasn't being prideful, just happy. Obi-Wan had said that that happiness stemmed from pride, which Anakin objected to, and with that, they were at it again.

«Why can't you just understand that not everyone is like you!» Anakin nearly screamed, forgetting that he was a Jedi Padawan and not supposed to have emotional outbursts, and not particularly caring either.

«Anakin, calm down,» Obi-Wan admonished in a muted but tense voice, having tried to keep Anakin's temper down for as long as possible and not succeeding very well. It was a year since Anakin had first left Tatooine, and the boy still hadn't quite managed to school himself into the calm Jedi-attitude that was expected of him.

«I _am_ calm!» The words burst from Anakin's lips before he could think, and he took a deep, frustrated breath before trying again. «I _am calm_.» This time, he said it in almost the same volume as Obi-Wan used, though his tense stance and the slight quiver in his voice at the last word did nothing to back up his claim. Still, Obi-Wan let it go. Anything else would only incense Anakin further.

After a brief pause, during which Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to hopefully attempt to cool himself further down and Anakin purposefully refused to do so, Obi-Wan sighed. «This discussion ends now.» He knew that wasn't the way to go, but Obi-Wan was tired of all their arguments and never getting anywhere. Unlike Qui-Gon, he didn't know what to say to get a reaction out of Anakin other than opposition when he tried to teach him something, sometimes even to the point where Obi-Wan wondered if his Padawan was doing it on purpose.

Anakin glared at the floor, but accepted the sort-of truce with a last – and again, rather traditional – comment. «Master Qui-Gon would have understood.» Then he turned, and started heading for the door to his room.

For one moment, Obi-Wan opened his mouth, hovering on the brink of uncertainty.

«Anakin.»

Anakin paused and turned his head to look expectantly at his Master. Obi-Wan hesitated, before plunging ahead determinedly. This wasn't something he wanted to do, but it needed to be said, and if he backed out now he might never regain the courage to do so.

«Anakin, when Master Qui-Gon died, you weren't the only one who lost him. I knew him too. And I know he was the one who saved you from slavery, but he was my Master for many years before that. He was the one Jedi who took me on as an apprentice when I had no other hope, the one who chose to train me especially and teach me the way of the Force when I was a child myself. You are not the only one who misses him, Anakin.

«When you met Qui-Gon, you barely had a chance to get to know him before he died. You never had the time to get into a proper argument with him, and as he freed you from slavery and was indeed a great person, you only see the ideal picture of a perfect man when you think of him. This is natural, and I don't fault you for it, but you must realize that for all his brilliance, Qui-Gon had his faults too. You wouldn't have agreed on everything and you would have had your fights if he had lived. And even if you hadn't, he didn't live, Anakin. He didn't live, and you got me instead. I know that I'm not as good at taking care of you as Qui-Gon would have been, but I am trying my best, so please stop comparing me to an ideal I could never achieve.

«I wasn't prepared to take you in when I did, Anakin, I'm still not, but I _am_ trying, so _please_, help me. The day I took you in I had just lost my Master and I was lost myself, struggling to keep my head above water. This isn't your fault, but if you would try to see things from my perspective sometimes and help me see things from yours, it would lighten the burden I'm carrying to this day immensely. I am not Qui-Gon, and I never will be. Please do not try to make me into him. I… I don't know if I can take it.»

Anakin was staring at him now. Obi-Wan, slightly breathless with anticipation and nervousness, almost started regretting his words as the seconds passed by. But he couldn't really make himself wish them back, because it felt so _good_ to finally have said them. So he stood in silence, waiting for Anakin to speak.

To Obi-Wan's surprise, Anakin didn't. Instead, he took four long steps across their apartment floor towards Obi-Wan and wrapped his arms around his waist. For a moment, Obi-Wan was too shocked to move, but then, almost against his will, he sank down on his knees and hugged Anakin back.

They stood like that for almost half a minute before Obi-Wan realized Anakin was shaking. He pulled back to look him over, and didn't know what to feel when he saw tears running down his Padawan's cheeks.

«I – I'm sorry, Master,» he half sobbed before stopping to pull himself together. Then he tried again, staring intently into Obi-Wan's eyes, as if to prove how honestly he meant what he had to say. «I… I didn't think of it like that. Master Qui-Gon dying must have been like - » he cut himself off, and Obi-Wan mentally filled in something along the lines of _if I'd lost my mother_, and didn't bother to correct Anakin. Firstly, because he hadn't actually said it, and secondly, Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't be at least partly lying if he denied it. «I'm sorry,» Anakin repeated, still looking him directly in the eyes. Obi-Wan felt himself smile slightly at his Padawan's obvious caring, and couldn't help but feel like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest.

«There's nothing to be sorry for, my Padawan,» he said, and meant it. While it had been hard dealing with Anakin, right at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care. «You didn't know.»

Still, Anakin frowned. «I should have noticed,» he said. «I should have thought. I should have – I didn't - »

«You didn't know,» Obi-Wan repeated firmly, and this time it was him trying to convey a message through his eyes. «You are young, Anakin, and I don't blame you. It was my problem, and if I wanted help, I could have asked for it. Now I'm asking. Please, help me. Give me some patience when I don't reach your expectations, and don't compare me to someone I am not. I will try harder too, and together, we can make you become a truly great Jedi. But I can't do it if you're not prepared to try. So… will you do this for me, Anakin?»

Anakin stared at him, an extreme kind of determination Obi-Wan had seldom seen in other people than the boy in front of him starting to shine through. «I will,» he said, with such conviction that Obi-Wan would have known what his answer was even if he hadn't understood the words themselves. «I promise.»

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. «Then I promise too.» And once again, they embraced each other, this time with the hope of a relationship so much closer and more understanding than before hanging in the air around them. The ice between them, which Obi-Wan had attempted to use as a shield to save himself the pain of ever losing someone the way he'd lost Qui-Gon, started melting. Obi-Wan couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so relieved.

_Line break_

Obi-Wan blinked, coming out of his daydream. Anakin was still heading for the door to his room.

«Anakin.»

Anakin paused and turned his head to look expectantly at his Master. Obi-Wan hesitated, before shaking his head.

«Remember your homework.»

Anakin rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and, still tense and fuming with frustration, half-walked, half-stomped into his room, slamming the door behind him as hard as he could manage.

The ice thickened.


End file.
